


Conviction

by KarasuNei



Series: The Road goes ever on and on [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blind! Jack, Canon-Typical Violence, Dumb Dads, Fluff, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuNei/pseuds/KarasuNei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think Jack would have learned by now...<br/>Or when Gabriel would rather swim through hell fire than letting Jack do stupid shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where many paths and errands meet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for your support! It's overwhelming to me how kind your words and support have been (Special shout out to that awesome person [misbehavingvigilante!!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavingvigilante/pseuds/misbehavingvigilante))
> 
> I was going to make a multi-chapter drabble fic, but can't resist writing some more about these salty stupid daddies XD. This will be a two-parter and I hope you guys enjoy it!!!

 

* * *

 

 

               “ _Goddamn it_ , Jack!” Gabriel growls, quickly firing around the bus they are hiding behind before scrambling over to the soldier. The profusely bleeding, dazed soldier. Seriously, screw Oxton, because he really fuckin’ hates King’s Row now. Closed corners, blind spots, exposure…It has everything. Gabriel waits for a beat, shoots a round of return fire, before slinging a weakly protesting Jack over his shoulder and dives into the dark alley nearby. Knowing how Talon operates, they probably have a sniper somewhere on the roofs, and Gabriel isn’t stupid enough to start healing Jack out in the open or risk wasting more time waiting for Mercy, even if they have their own sniper slinking around.

 

                As per usual, everything goes to shit so fast.

 

                He can hear Reinhardt’s charging roar somewhere in the distance, following by a crash and Torbjörn’s snapping orders. Mercy should be with them, and with all the noises the other two idiots are making, Gabriel is pretty sure she didn’t hear a fucking thing he said. The most they can hope for is that Hanzo has caught onto the problem and would be coming over to cover them. Unless the other three is in _really_ deep-shit. It is dark and dank here, but Gabriel doesn’t need a light to see, as his well-practiced fingers yank off one of Jack’s biotic emitter, all the while trying to prop the dumbass up straight against the cold wall.

 

                “It’s alright, _cabrón_ , I got you.” Gabriel mutters, and he strains every single muscle in his body so his hands won’t shake, “Imprudent bastardo, no puedes morir, recuerdas?”

 

                He let out a breath he didn’t realise he held as Jack stirs sluggishly when the golden glow kicks up, stemming his flowing wounds. This would have to do for now. Jack's pulse rifle is lost somewhere out there when he took half a clip to the side, foolishly trying to jump in front of Gabriel like he was some kind of meat shield. Enraged, Gabriel gave the shooter a new face job completed with bones and skin flying everywhere, but not before Jack slumps down into a bloody heap. The pulse rounds punctured neat holes through Jack’s armour, though Gabriel has to say, if it wasn’t for the fucking armour, Jack would have been just a charred pile of burger right now. The too recent memory makes Gabriel growl, running a hand through his sweaty hair under the hood.

 

                It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way, though Gabriel _supposes_ he should stop thinking that. Winston and Lena did the homework, backward and forward. This was intended to be a simple payload-stopping mission. Dirty government money to the local mafia. They even took precautions and dispatched a whole team of six here instead of the usual two to three recon team, since it’s fucking London. And of _fucking_ course it turns out _Talon_ is involved and this is a fucking trap. They got separated from the others because some asshole fired a fucking _rocket_ at them. And _fuck_ , Gabriel is so fucking _done_ with this shit. This is his first mission, big mission, after the treatment. And Jack has to go and take hits for him like he was some kind of fragile little flowers or some shit. Ziegler has gotten rid of _most_ the rapidly decaying, but not Gabriel’s regeneration. He would definitely heal much faster than the unconscious moron here and pretty much still can’t _die_.

 

                Gabriel didn’t need a warning, that distance, familiar _click_ was enough, to angle himself forward and take a fucking sniping bullet to the shoulder, shielding that shit from splattering Jack’s brain matter on the concrete. Gabriel doesn’t even falter at the pain, turning around at lightning speed with his shotguns raised despite his protesting muscles, coming up face-to-face and gun-to-gun with none other than Widowmaker.

 

                “You look good, _Reaper_. Hanging with the goody-two-shoes seems to treat you well.” In Gabriel’s opinion, Widow would have been real pretty if she doesn’t scowl like there’s a pile of excrement under her nose all the fucking time. He briefly wonders whose gun would hit first, his Hellfire or her Widow’s Kiss. Should be at the same time, give or take a few milliseconds. Sure, the automatic would be puncturing him into Swiss cheese in a heartbeat, but he _can actually_ _kill_ her, _not_ the other way around. However, Gabriel also knows she is smart enough to understand that. The only one in danger here is Jack, sprawling behind him like a fucking dead fish.

 

                Oh yeah, Gabriel is _so done_.

 

                “Get your saggy tits out of my sight, before I blew them to bits.” He grouses and all it manages to do is dragging out an amused, lazy chuckle from the sniper. Fuck, that fucking bullet is protruding through his goddamned shoulder pad. Yep, definitely going to punch Jack next time the asshole makes fun of his ensemble…

 

                “ _C'est comme ça?_ So cold. And here I thought you would be ecstatic to see an old friend.” She cocks her head to the side, smirking, and her French accent is harsh as she has a glimpse of 76, still laying spread out uselessly behind Gabriel, “But then again, I see you’ve found a plaything. How quaint.”

 

                Really, he should be completely pissed right now, especially with Jack’s blood still seeping through his clothes. But Gabriel’s brain races instead. Widowmaker is a sleeper agent. An effective agent, yes, but not as fucking valuable as Jack _motherfucking_ Morrison, to both Gabriel _and_ Talon. Granted, if they know who Soldier 76 is to begin it, but Gabriel reserves all rights to be paranoid. They would trade Widowmaker’s life for the former Strike Commander in a heartbeat, and she won’t even hesitate either. Her head tilts, almost playfully, but Gabriel knows better. He tenses.

 

                “So you generously grace us with your presence from whatever attic you’ve been hiding up on to catch up? I thought fancy coffee over croissant is more your style, Widow, not some dingy British alley behind a bullet-ridden bus.” Imaginary self-pat on the back for steady voice.

 

                Where the fuck is that goddamned ninja when you need him???

 

                At least Widow bites the bait, or at least is cocky enough to toy with him, either way, Gabriel doesn’t give a fuck because it bought them time, and she begins to laugh that nerve-grating, cold laughter of hers, “Still a talker, aren’t you, _Gabriel_?” Someone that can roll the “R” in his name, _whoopy-freaking-doo_ , but Gabriel is not sure he quite likes it. Never mind, _definitely_ hates it. “Such a shame to see you go, _mon chéri_. Come back to us, blood and darkness suit you much better. You can play along with them as long as you’d like, but deep down, you know you’re one of us.”

 

                A chill runs down Gabriel’s spine as Widow inclines her rifle almost casually. He might not be a sniper, but he knows that fucking gun. With the right focus, which Widowmaker always has unless severely interrupted, her shot will go straight _through_ Gabriel and right between Jack’s eyes. Thank fucks for all the trainings, his permanent state of grouchiness and the bullet still embedded in his shoulder, Gabriel’s scowl doesn’t waver one bit, “What’s the catch? Don’t pretend like you assholes don’t know what I did, what I’m _still_ doing. Wouldn’t it be more sensible to just down me right here, right now?”

 

                “But that’s the catch, _mon chéri_ _. It_ only proves that you are an infiltrator, an invaluable agent. Talon doesn’t want to waste such talents with needless bloodshed.” Gabriel snorts loudly at that part, carving Widowmaker’s smirk just a tad wider, “You are just like me, _Reaper_. Soon, you will put a bullet in his head, just as I did to what was mine. You will soon grow tired of this routine, tired of running. And then, you will come back to us. Just save everyone some time and do it now.”

 

Gabriel snarls and Widow’s grin becomes cruel. She probably expected him to lunge at her with guns blazing, provoked and leaving Jack open, but he didn’t. Gabriel falls backwards with a smooth spin, covering Jack’s entire body with his own, tucking the soldier’s head under his chest as arrows go flying everywhere, metal snapping against stone amidst gunshots. Gabriel grunts when a few of the ricocheting bullets hits him in the back, but he doesn’t let Jack go until everything goes quiet once more.

 

                “Can’t fuckin’ show up any sooner.” Gabriel spits as he hauls both himself and Jack up, glaring at a sullen Hanzo, who tosses him Jack’s beloved rifle.

 

                “She got away.” Said the archer, firing one last arrow to destroy a Venom Mine Widowmaker left behind. Gabriel rolls his eyes, patting Jack’s side to make sure the shithead indeed has stopped bleeding to death. The soldier still seems weak on his feet and still has to lean onto Gabriel for support, which is understandable, but he is adequately patched up for now. Nothing permanent and nothing Ziegler’s Caduceus Staff can’t fix. Maybe some bedrest because _hell_ if Gabriel is letting the dumbass pull this shit again.

 

                “Where are the others, _mi’ijo_ ?” Gabriel grunts, slinging Jack’s weapon on his back has touched an already healing but tender spot.

 

                “Heading off towards the teleporter destination. The payload is a ruse, obviously. We all came here for naught.” Hanzo gives Jack’s limping form one look, his eye twitching, “I’ll cover you from above. Talon agents will be swarming this place soon.”

 

                “Herpity derp.” Gabriel drawls sarcastically and impatiently, which earns him a withering glare from the archer before he nimbly climbs atop the nearest building, disappearing from sight. With a loud, suffering exhale, Gabriel nudges Jack forwards, supporting the latter with ease, albeit a bit strained due to his own injuries. Ah, well, at least nobody died (throws a not-very subtle glare at Jack) even though they just wasted a shitton of time and ammo. Brigitte is going to bitch so much about all the scratched and dented and _punctured_ armours…

 

                They soon make it away from the square and into the covering darkness of less-populated alleys. Gabriel has been mumbling under his breath in Spanish the whole time, mostly about bitchy snipers and reckless boy scouts. Yet, Jack’s silence worries Gabriel a little. The man is obviously conscious, but he is probably too addled from his experience. Despite still being pissed about Jack’s impulsive behaviours, Gabriel is greatly concerned, “Ay, don’t die on me now, _cabrón_. I didn’t get fuckin’ showered in your blood so you can drop-dead right now.” No response, “ _Dios bueno_ , asshat, if Ziegler doesn’t nag you to death first, I’ll give you a good beating. Can’t die here, remember? Don’t you fucking do it again, dumbass. It’s not worth it. I’ll just fuckin’ heal again. See? They’re already healing.”

 

                “You’re…you’re _not_ like them. Not…like _her_.”

 

                Jack’s wheeze makes Gabriel pause for just a second. He then sighs loudly, “Of course not. Now-…”

 

                “No, just…” Stubbornly, Jack pulls his weight down for every ounce he is worth, though that only pisses Gabriel off even more and he just downright picks Jack up princess-style. The fuck is the little shit thinks he’s doing?! Trying to open up all the wounds?! Growling, albeit weakly due to his blood lost, the hard-headed, silver-haired asshole head-butts Gabriel on the shoulder, even if it does next to nothing but annoys the other man more, “Gabe! I trust you. You _need_ to know that!”

 

                This time, Gabriel does stop. He holds Jack’s tired, but determined gaze behind the tinted visor just as tightly as he holds the man’s body. Gingerly, Gabriel places his precious cargo down and removes Jack’s mask. With an airy chuckle that is barely above his breath, Gabriel kisses Jack, slow and tender, something that whisks the soldier’s breaths away and has Jack chasing for more even as they part.

 

                “You’re adorable, _guapo_.” Gabriel teases with a grin, laughing when he feels Jack’s feeble punch on his shoulder, and doesn’t get protested when he picks the soldier up again. There is a bounce on his feet and a pleasing rumble in his chest, when Jack nestles his face against Gabriel’s neck, lips pressing against the ex-merc pulse point, huffing out an exhausted laugh of his own.

 

                _Yeah, I trust you too._

 

               

 

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [Kyun](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuyn/pseuds/Kuyn) for fixing the Spanish :3


	2. My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Jack is dense and Gabriel is stubborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine, I admit...I wrote both chapters as one and then decided to split them into two >.>;;; So technically I could have posted both parts yesterday, but I didn't have the time to spelling/grammar check yesterday, sooooooooooooooo~
> 
> /cough
> 
> Yay! Smut!

 

* * *

 

 

               Jack doesn’t even twitch when the paper door slides open.

 

                “Hey, love, how you feelin’?” He doesn’t need his sight to know Lena is having that stupid grin of hers on, if not a bit guiltily so. Jack sighs, rubbing his bare face tiredly.

 

                “I’m fine. Just…restless, I suppose.”

 

                “Anything I can get ya?”

 

                “Lena, you’ve been asking that every single day since we came back. I’m _fine_. And really, it’s not your fault. Or Winston’s at that matter. We were played, it happens. _Get over it_.” Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, his tone a little harsher than he intended, sensing a headache coming. With Gabriel’s hovering/complaining, Angela’s nagging and Lena’s guilty offering, it takes all of Jack’s self-control to not vault himself over one of the Castle’s walls. Gods, and to think he still has at least a whole week sitting here doing nothing before he could finally walk on his own without Gabriel threatening to break his kneecaps…

 

                Some awkward silence stretches between them, which is odd, because Lena always runs her mouth on par with her feet. Jack let out another sigh, this time exasperated.

 

                “Is he doing that again?”

 

                “Please heal quicker, Commander. Gabriel won’t stop harassing Angie with constant updates of your health status and is now taken to phasing everywhere around the compound!!!” Lena’s voice is a bit squeezed and antsy, “He just startled Rein into tackling the fridge, Jack! _The fridge_!!”

 

                So that’s what that odd metal-grinding noise was…If he wasn’t already having a headache, Jack would have laughed at Lena’s agonized cry. The soldier breathes slowly and mentally counts to ten. It helps a little.

 

                “Why didn’t Winston just give him a mission?”

 

                “Uhm, yeah, no.” Lena snorts, and it sounds like she is shifting into a more comfortable position on the floor, “Reyes almost threw a tantrum at the mere suggestion of going to get _the groceries_. I don’t think Winston’s ready to lose another pair of glasses, love.”

               

                She added that “love” like an afterthought, quite a bit sullen as she swings back and forth lightly on her rump, creaking the tatami mat underneath her. Jack sighs again, “What do you want _me_ to do about it?”

 

                “Drop a biotic field and get back on your feet immediately?” Her voice is mischievous, if not slightly hopeful. Jacks turns his blind face towards her direction and quirks up a sceptical, scarred eyebrow. Lena groans.

 

                “Ugh, _fine_! But at least keep him in your love nest? Better only you driven off the wall than _all of us_ together! I swear to God, Jack, Edge Lord is pretty awesome to hang around, minus his goth tendencies and grumpy old man attitudes, but he’s downright _insufferable_ when you’re on your sick bed, luv!” Lena is surely flailing her arms about now, her accent gets thicker the longer she rants, “I admit, it’s friggin’ adorable, but it gets annoyin’! ‘Cuz he’s so grumpy he makes everyone have foul moods!”

 

                “Like you are right now.”

 

                “Ye-… _Holy shit_!!!” There’s a thud and a zip, “ _Da feck_ , Gabriel!?”

 

                Jack sighs again as he listens to Tracer yells something about sneaky crazy old fart, narrowly dodges whatever Gabriel just throws at her and dashes away as quickly as possible. Patiently, Jacks waits as Gabriel rustles around, meticulously closing the sliding door because he knows loud noises are annoying to Jack’s sensitive ears, his bare feet rasping quietly against the tatami mats, his careful arrangements of whatever he just brought back…It’s stupid and cliché, but the other man’s sheer presence is enough to cease Jack’s high strung nerves…

 

                “New meds?” Jack finally asks, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel’s direction. He got an agreeing hum in response as a warmth settles beside him, pressing a glass of water to his hand. Jack frowns, “Is it time to take some already?”

 

                “No, but Ziegler said you need to consume plenty of fluid. And it doesn’t look like you’ve drunk any since I left, _cabrón._ ”

 

                “…You literally left eighteen minutes ago.” Jack’s voice is flat. Gabriel let out an annoyed huff. Good. The asshole should feel riled up for all the troubles he is causing.

 

                “So glad you missed me, _cariño_.” Gabriel drawls, smoky voice tickling the shell of Jack’s ear, “Drink up. I don’t want to see Zeigler descending on you like an angry harpy.”

 

                Jack wrinkles his nose and, despite being _a tiny bit_ flustered, pushes Gabriel’s face away and firmly places the glass far from his reach, “Excuse me? _Angela_ descending on me? Aren’t _you_ the one who’s been overbearingly _hovering_? _You_ ’re the one who’s stressing _her_ out, Gabe, and I’d appreciate you to not do so, because the last thing we need right now is to have Reinhardt going on a protective rampage.”

 

                Yes, Jack is _pretty sure_ Reinhardt didn’t tackle the fridge because his poor old heart is startled, but because the German was trying to find a way to stop Gabriel from looking over Angela’s shoulder ever so constantly. With how Tracer’s been describing Gabriel’s behaviour, not that Jack didn’t already know, it would be only a matter of time before the old man grabs his hammer and attempts to smash the intolerable ex-merc into pulps for bothering their only qualified doctor so much.

 

                Regardless, Gabriel puts on his impossible, rumbling chuckle (that’s definitely _not_ hot at all) and easily pushes Jack’s rejecting arm away so he can nuzzle at the soldier’s hair, “You’re cute when you get prickly.”

 

                The big, bad Reaper yelps when Jack pinches his ear, “Says you.” The soldier growls, though he let out a surprised noise when Gabriel pounces him into the futon. There isn’t much force behind it, Gabriel only uses his bulky mass and Jack’s unprepared stationary to his advantage, covering Jack’s with his mostly warm but still slightly cool-skinned body. Jack squirms, slapping Gabriel on the sides. But he relaxes after a moment, charting it up to being tired instead of just how _comfortable_ Gabriel feels to him. Jack scoffs at his own sentimentality and closes his unseeing eyes, listening to Gabriel’s very sluggish heartbeats where his head is tucked against. The dark man shifts them into a more conventional position, though he keeps Jack’s silver crown to his chest still, rubbing soothing circles into the soldier’s back.

 

                “I’m fine, Gabe.” Jack says finally, though the seriousness in his voice is muffled by the soft T-shirt and defined muscles before him, “You’re being a mother-hen.”

 

                “ _Yo? Imposible_.”

 

                Jack’s snort matches Gabriel’s. He hooks his arm around the older man and smacks his back just for good measure, before returning the hug, “I’m fine, Gabe.” He insists. There is no response, but Gabriel’s deep humming that vibrates from his chest and basks Jack in a warmth that the soldier can’t deny, even if he is scowling.

 

                “Gabe, it’s not because of what that bitch said the other day, is it? Because-…”

 

                He wheezes, because Gabriel suddenly squeezes him and covers his mouth with a hungry, possessive kiss that leaves Jack dizzy, much like what happened in King’s Row. But when they part this time, Gabriel’s lips linger, brushing against Jack’s stubbly, unshaven chin, then his brows come to rest against Jack’s.

 

                “I don’t give a flying fuck about what she said, _imbécil_.” Gabriel growls thickly, making a shiver run down Jack’s spine as the other man presses himself impossibly closer, canting his groin just right so Jack can feel the line of his hard cock through the barrier of their clothes, “Do you realise how close you were?! _How close you were about to slip through my fingers_?!”

 

                Jack’s features soften, “Gabe, I-…” His breath hitches when Gabriel forcefully shoves two large hands down the soldier’s sweat pants, groping Jack’s ass firmly enough to make him yelp.

 

                “No.” Gabriel hisses stubbornly, nibbling his slightly pointed teeth along Jack’s quivering throat, leaving marks in its wake along the soldier’s pale column of skin, “I don’t give a shit about what anyone has to say, Jack! I _know_ you trust me. And I trust _you_ to not be wavered. _We’ve been there before_! It means _nothing_! _Nobody else_ does! It’s _not_ what I’m-…”

 

                Gabriel’s snarl is feral, cutting off his own words by slotting their mouths together almost violently, tongue plunging deep into Jack’s hot carven. It makes the soldier shiver, not because of the kiss itself or how quickly Gabriel is tearing their clothes off, but because of the unspoken words. Jack feels stupid, and his heart beats so fast it might just burst out of his chest.

 

                Jack let himself being pinned down, arching into Gabriel’s touches, unabashedly moans as their bare skin slide together deliciously. And yet, even though Gabe is tense and using all his rolling muscles into holding Jack down, the man is being extremely careful. Even his fingers are deft, attentive when they prepare Jack, Gabriel’s other hand lazily stroking the tip of Jack’s weeping cock to distract him from the slight discomfort. Times like these make Jack wistful of his lost sight, because he couldn’t see the expressions on Gabriel’s face, monstrous as the man might called himself. No matter how he looks, Gabriel is still _Gabriel_ , too stubborn and prideful to say what he wants to say, but, moments like this, he speaks with his eyes. Then again, deep down, maybe Jack doesn’t need to see, after all. Simply because he understands that feeling well enough, the same feeling when he leapt forward without thinking to eat all those bullets instead of Gabriel.

 

                _I can’t lose you again_.

 

                It is foolish. Maybe it has something to do with age. They are growing soft. Predictable. And too mulish to say how they truly feel out loud to one another.

 

                Jack’s thoughts are all flushed out when Gabriel enters him in one swift movement.

 

                “Stop. Thinking.” The ex-merc grits his teeth, hard muscles pressing against Jack’s own as he lifts the soldier up to fully sit in his lap. Jack bites him on the shoulder, hard, to prevent himself from howling out in overwhelming pleasure. Briefly, his mind registers that the smell of Reaper’s smog is so much fainter now…

 

                “Stop fucking thinking, Morrison! Just. _Me_!” Gabriel’s each vowel is punctured with a powerful snap of his hips. Mouth agape, Jack is desperately scraping all over Gabe’s back for purchase, keening in abandonment. The soldier soon bounces shamelessly, his screams soundless when Gabriel’s teeth caught a nipple. He feels rather than hears Gabriel’s bubbling roar, and Jack straight up shouts when a big hand starts pumping his cock, jerking it frantically in no rhythm at all.

 

                Jack’s climax is violent, his body spazzing, but Gabriel wouldn’t let him go, slamming their lips together and swallowing all of Jack’s cries from being over-stimulated. The soldier let out a half-scream, half-sob when he is filled to the brim, Gabriel’s pelvic stuttered as he works off the last thrusts of his orgasm. One frozen, breathless moment passes, and Gabriel falls backwards, letting Jack sprawl over him, heedless of the sticky mess between their bodies.

 

                They lay there, boneless and heads blank, still connected in the most intimate of ways. It feels good, like floating, but yet grounded with every steady rise and fall of Gabriel’s chest. Jack’s blissed-out mind barely registers the cool fingers stroking his back, his own skin twitching in its overly-sensitised aftermath. An inexplicably warmth spreads through Jack’s entire being, in a way like no other.

 

                Gabriel’s heart is beating, _loud and clear_ , in his ear.

 

                “The entire compound must have heard us.”

 

                Gabriel laughs, the pleasant sound rolling in waves, making Jack shudder, “Excuse me? _Us_?” His laughter grows louder, reminding Jack sharply of how they are still _attached_ , making the soldier grin despite his weak attempt to slap Gabriel’s arm. It was more like a flop of his limb, but Jack can’t bring himself to care, snuggling further into Gabriel’s dissipating warmth.

 

                “Pretty sure _everyone_ knows what we’re doing, _guapo_. Plus, I don’t think _some of them_ mind. McCree was probably takin’ notes. Y’know, to court that _one certain princessy archer_ …”

 

                 Silence.

 

                “ _What_?!”

 

                Gabriel blinks. And then he is shaking with laughter, limp member slipping out of Jack at the motions. The soldier flusters at the feeling of cum leaking out of his ass, but still manages to slap the _asshole_ under him hard enough to regain his attention. Gabriel’s laughter turns into quieter, rumbling chuckles, the kind of chuckle that Jack likes to think reserved only for him, and kisses Jack soundly.

 

                Yeah.

 

                _It’s good like this_.

 

                _As long as we live for each other_.

 

               

 

               

**Author's Note:**

> Visit my tumblr for more Blizz trash: [Nei Karasu](http://neikarasu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
